Of Book and Cook

Book
     The book is "Afgantsy", written by Rodric Braithwaite.  Who he?  Ex-British Ambassador to the Soviet Union/Russia, is who.  It's a measured and analytical tome about the Russians in Afghanistan, primarily from the Russian point of view.  Since Conrad was around at the time the Russians were busy invading and attempting to sovietise the country, seeing facts and figures about what was only guessed at the time is illuminating.

Cook
     I have just made 10 English muffins with a 3 1/2" cookie cutter, and they look about right, not too small and not too big.  The real test, of course, is when they get cut open and then we'll see if they got proved for long enough.
     I have also been researching a dish I remember from childhood - fish doria.  There aren't any set recipes for it, bar the use of white sauce and rice, so I may have a go at it tomorrow.  And use rice flour instead of wheat for the sauce.
     A need has also arisen for comparing how much dry yeast to use as opposed to fresh yeast; that Poppy Seed Roll recipe uses fresh not dried.  Google be my friend!

Yeast being idle.

I Feel The Darkness Closing In!
     Oh.  Ah.  It's just that the sun is setting.  And it isn't even half-four yet.  When do the clocks go back? <checks diary> Next Sunday.  So I can get up at half ten and yet it will only be nine thirty.  A lie-in, however, does not compensate for months of getting up in the dark and arriving home in the dark.


Beer O'clock!
     Or is it?  When is it appropriate to start drinking at the weekend?

They lie in the fridge, taunting me.  Taunting, I tell you!

I'm not driving anywhere, I don't have to go to work tomorrow, yet is 16:30 late enough?  I shall go consult Plato, maybe Kant as well.  That modern American philosopher Philip K. Dick would doubtless have been on his second bottle of wine by now, so I'm not asking him.

Cherry Ghost
     No, Valentina, not a hip street name for drugs!  I mean the band.  Not exactly prolific, we've had an album once every three years, which means one is due NOW THANK YOU VERY MUCH!
     I shall be waiting, Mr Aldred*, I shall be waiting.

So - Tanks?
     Take a look at this chap:

0 - 35 in two and a half minutes

This bad boy is a Centurion BARV**.  No it's not Hebrew - it's the acronym for "Beach Armoured Recovery Vehicle", based on the chassis of a Centurion tank.  Whenever we Brits mount an amphibious operation, these peculiar beasts will be sitting on the shoreline, ready to tow or salvage any other vehicle that comes to grief before getting onto terra firma.

Right, time to go test-drive those muffins!

* Simon, the driving force behind the band
** As you already knew, this photo comes from the Modern annex at Bovvie.

You what? You what!

Shopping
     No need to ponder, prevaricate or palliate about potential prose, today's BOOJUM! begins with that wretched activity described above. 
     Given that the family needs to feed, Conrad takes it upon himself once a week to do a big shop.  He also recalls a newspaper article many years ago that pronounced the weekly shop was " a leisure activity".
     IT IS NOT!  IT IS NOT AT ALL!
     Doing the weekly shopping is a necessary evil.  I look forward to the dawn of nanotechnology that will enable us to produce endless foodstuffs by using a 3D organic printer in the kitchen
     Don't bother about shopping for clothes, either.  This is the most heinous of all activities that deprives me of real leisure time.  If you want to know Conrad's view on clothes-shopping, watch the film "As Good As It Gets", specifically the scene where Jack Nicholson's character goes to buy a jacket.
     He leans in the door, points at a jacket and says "I'll have that one!".  There.  Done in ten seconds. 
     - and that, Victoria, is the proper way to shop.

I'd rather do this than Asda

Procrastination
     Yes, another venture into English like wot she is spoke.  This is so obviously a surgical procedure it needs no further explanation, right?  I mean, it's doubtless a method of boring into the skull in order to release all those evil humours that -
     Oh it's not?  It has nothing to do with surgery?  No using a Black and Decker to drill holes - ah, okay, we can skip that bit.
     Apparently it means to put off a task.  That's it.
     What about anticrastination, where you actively seek to take on a job earlier than you needed?  Or pseudocrastination, where you only pretend to put things off until tomorrow, or hypocrastination <Mr Hand says please proceed to Page 96 where this rant continues>


Somewhat ticked-off, eh?
 

Conrad in the Workplace
     I returned to work today, much to the surprise of fellow workers.  Apart from Anna, whom yesterday offered to bake cupcakes for the ganterpies  and whom thus knew I would be venturing up to the 3rd floor today.  Thank you Anna!  just don't get too good and steal Conrad's thunder, ta very much.
     Also blotted copybook - hmm, an analogy probably completely foreign to today's youth okay to recap - put foot in it with Sophie, who asked about whether I'd baked anything or not.  "No!" replied Conrad.  "My glamourous understudy - " which is Anna for those not paying attention - " - has baked cupcakes for all!".
     Short pause.
     "I thought I was your glamourous understudy," replied Sophie, in a dangerous undertone.
     Think fast Conrad, think fast!
     "You can be, but you're too good at baking to be an understudy.  We can be primus inter pares," I said, and had to explain it meant "first amongst equals".
     I may have gotten away with this.  If BOOJUM! doesn't continue past this date I was wrong.

Anna and Sophie in the office.  When out partying they wear less.  Jewellery!  Less jewellery.

So - Tanks?
     Yes indeed.  What does 18 tons of manure look like in armoured form?  O I thought you'd never ask:


The Covenanter.  So named because it's as effective as a coven of ants.

This rascal was rushed into production without proper testing, and then produced without anyone listening to the testers, and then used without anyone listening to the users.  Rush, rush, rush.  It was a rubbish tank, so bad that we sent them to the Russians*, who used them as high-speed go-karts on special circuits behind the lines.


Well, time to go tackle that banoffee ice-cream!


*Did you get the "rush" pun?  No?  For f - say it aloud!

Empty Head Syndrome

No Views of the Muse
     Today, I spent time thinking "What shall I put in the blog?  What shall I put in the blog?"

I wore more clothes

Nothing came to mind.  Nothing entertaining.  I could muse on traffic, or the colour of autumn leaves, but traffic is boring and Conrad hates 99.9% of all poetry.

Food
     A reliable standby.  This evening I made some English muffins - "big ass English muffins" in the words of one observer.  They're not bad, actually, well risen, not yeast-flavoured, nicely browned and with a good aerated texture.  Also big.  What I need is a 31/2" cookie cutter, as 3" is too small and 4" is too big.
     I also made the banoffee ice-cream, which is currently setting in the freezer.  Individually the banana ice cream and caramel were nice, but splicing them together has been a bit awkward and I suspect the end-product may end up rather odd in texture.
     Did I mention the muffins were big?

Bigger than this puny effort

Oh - just finished my cuppa, now I have to go see if there's any left in the pot, hang on ...

... there was half a cup. 

Van Der Graaf Generator


     No!  Not that kind of VDGG.  This kind:

I think they got dressed in the dark ...

That's better.  Yes, the people behind "The Least We Can Do Is Wave To Each Other", which I was listening to tonight for the first time in at least twenty five years.  A record of contrasts, to say the least; some quite elegiac music ("Refugees") and some so scarey it drove Wifey out of the kitchen ("White Hammer").  Although most of my music does that.

No Views of the Booze
     That is, no pub quiz tonight for Conrad and darling daughter.  Rosie and Phil, our counterparts, are away in foreign lands examining constructions known as "Breweries".  By logical extension, these "Breweries" produce "brews", so they must be in India drinking tea.
     This is a good thing, frankly, as we risk being ostracised for being just too good.  Celebrities, sport, soap opera and history, we cover all bases.

Not tonight, Diane

So - Tanks?
     Allow me

Ladies and Gentlemen, the Progvev T

This is a tank mounting a jet engine.  You cranked up the jet turbine, pointed it forward and hey pesto! any mines blew up out of sheer overwhelmedness.

Righto, got to go see how that ice-cream is doing.  Did I mention how big the muffins were?

    

Whoops!

How Cruel Am I?
     Forgetful, not cruel.  That film quote from Saturday - "Monsters, John!  Monsters from the Id!" - was of course from "Forbidden Planet", the last dying words of Doc Ostrov.
     Top film, you ought to see it if you haven't already.  No CGI, of course, since it comes from the 1950's.

Fibbing poster!  At no point does a swooning Anne Francis allow Robbie to man - er, robothandle her.

 Espresso Ahoy!
     The Palace of BOOJUM! has just acquired one of these (for mere pennies):

Not quite as pristine.  Quite manky, actually.  To be honest,  a bit minging.

Conrad, being an inquisitive fellow, has found out how to operate one, and shortly after this blog is going to go down and clean it up.  There's a pack of ground coffee in the Non-Poisonous Supplies cupboard, so I am going to stoke up on caffeine.

Sorry!
     Homeland Security, the Atomic Energy Authority, the Ministry of Defence and the Secretary of State for Energy have all been yarking on at me, so - no plans for a nuclear reactor using only items found in the kitchen.  Maybe a few from the garage, too.

A pressure-cooker, some uranium - and we're off!

So - Tanks?
     The least I can do after no nuclear reactor.

A watchtower tank.  Obviously!

 - and to finish:

One of these men is a cannibal

Tomorrow:  Audubon's Book of North American Zombie Birds

Under The Whip And Against The Clock!

Six Minutes and counting ...
     Until The Great British Bake-Off, so I don't think I'll manage an impeccably-crafted blog full of wit, bonhomie and odd pictures with amusing captions. Sad, because I liked yesterday's picture of the Moon getting blammed with atom bombs.

Four Minutes and counting ...
     Yesterday I tried sweet potato fritters, very much an experiment.  To be successful in future they need to be thinner, hence less sticky and potatoey, so I plan to use double the gram flour and an oiled spatula to HAMMER THEM FLAT!  Well, press them flat really, but HAMMER THEM FLAT! is pretty eye-catching.

Like this, but with an apron.  Hot oil spits a bit, after all.

Okay, the show is over
     Nope, can't stay to watch other programmes, I have a blog to write!  Darling daughter did seem interested in the "Bavois" (sp?) which is tricky enough when not done against the clock - make the jam, make a swiss roll sponge, make a swiss roll, slice it up and line a bowl, then make a fruit mousse and cool overnight and then cover it with transparent sweet jelly glop and pipe cream around the base.  For what looks like a brain.

A delicious Bavoir, straight from the fridge.  Wait, no -

When Will Man's Sun Shine?
     Following on from the inception of nuclear fusion that generates more energy than it consumes, now we have potential construction parts that can be assembled to create a fusion reactor.

http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/science-environment-24528306


Damn.  I wonder if I'll live to see a fusion-powered spaceship?  Of course, we need it before Skynet becomes a reality ...

Invincible
     Another recently-purchased TPB, written by Robert Kirkman.  Eighteen collected volumes ago, this began rather light and fluffy - could it be the same Kirkman who wrote the unbelieveably grim "The Walking Dead"?  By Jove yes it could!
     The light and fluffy gradually wore off and now some hard moral choices are being made.  I like the way it doesn't follow the clichés of conventional superhero comics.  But!  Will it end?   That is, come to a definite conclusion and allows the characters complete closure?  We shall see.  Volume Eighteen, after all, is titled "The Death of Everyone".

The Cast of "Invincible: Volume Nineteen"

 Great Philosophical Questions of the Modern Age:

 Tomorrow:  How to create a fission reactor using common household objects









Accelerated Time

Or, Blimey, Where Did The Evening Go?
     There's a similar phenomenon at work, where Conrad boldly walks in, sits down to get started and Zzzzip!  Eight hours have gone by.
     Tonight I got home, got changed out of my sodden clothes (I swam to the car park), washed up a load of dishes, made Cream of Chicken and Vegetable Soup, checked out a recipe, got lunch for tomorrow ready, made some sweet potato fritters, insulted some folk on Facebook and Zzzzip! it's nine-thirty.
     Ah, come to think about it, I did have a pot of tea.  That explains it*!

Conrad, with his tea of pot.  Sorry!  Pot of tea.

A Moment Of Truth
     Today my darling daughter was present in the Qubo, riffling through a stack of Cd's I'd remembered to take with me.  She picked out "Led Zeppelin IV" and asked "Is this really old?"
     "Yes it is," I replied, before realising it was over forty years old.  Forty two, in fact, in about a month's time.  Really old.
     Still, you can't be a prisoner of the past, so I listened to Leftfield on the walk in to the office.












"Peripatetic"
     The word for today.  No, it is not a variety of tropical chilli pepper capable of burning holes in steel plate.  No, it is not an hideous disease of the stomach that causes it to shrivel to the size and texture of a walnut.  Nor is it patois for an item or entity of appalling shallowness.
     It actually means someone mobile who moves from one location to another with frequency.  Bit mundane, really.

That was rather dull, so here's a picture of the Moon being atom-bombed:

Ha!  Take that, Moon!

And finally, in place of tanks, here's something in a tank.  Shark with laser beam alert!

What, you want more?  Okay!

 

 The last one specially for Anna!  Nobody's going to mess with that pooch ...

Finis

Well, Almost
     The third wall in my Upstair Lair has been painted, finally, only about six months late.  All three will need a second coat, too, which can be deferred for a while.
     Would you like a picture?  Oh go on then.

Chocolate milkshake, apparently

How pristine and uncluttered, unlike Conrad's workstation:

My lifestyle captured in a single image.

100 Bullets
     I've just started the last TPB volume of this outstanding comic* series.  Having got to the end, I'll probably have to go back and re-read from the start.  The artwork has been uniformly excellent, and I'm glad Risso kept to schedule - I hate "bait-and-switch" publishing.  Since it comes to a conclusion and a definite end I like it even more - no resurrection, when it's done, it's done, complete and ended.  Similarly with "The Boys" - the end, finis.

Another Record
     Yesterday I had over 60 views, the highest ever for BOOJUM!  If you were one of those people, thank you for reading!

Why Giraffes?  Why not!

I Dream -
     - of ice-cream.  I got two cartons of whipping cream yesterday because it was going cheap, with the idea of making more ice-cream.  Not that I've finished the Lychee or the Avocado & Coconut yet, but what the hell, the world can always deal with extra ice-cream.  Ice-cream's big in Libya, you know.  It would be, given the temperature.  Here it forms part of my work breakfast, and is perfectly normal, thank you.

So - tanks?
     Let me introduce you to the Char 2C, a French monster weighing-in at 69 tons, with a twelve-man crew

100 metres per gallon

Bit of a white elephant, it never did any fighting, but it did demonstrate that France can build Really Big Tanks.

Righto - better go do something with that whipping cream, eh?

* Graphic novel if you want to be a pseud about it.